The Mercury Chronicles: Help
by respitechristopher
Summary: Written for the Hogwarts Online "Prompt-of-the-day." James needs the kind of help that only the Mercurial Trio can provide. Will their bad blood get in the way? Is his career in jeopardy? Will Albus ever get laid again? Find out!
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** Wait. Didn't I swear off chaptered fics forever? Well, depending on how I feel, this will be either two or three, but no more than that. It's not all that big a story. Written originally for the Hogwarts Online forum's Prompt-of-the-day. For 18th April, that prompt was "Help". So, enjoy:

**The Mercury Chronicles: Help**

October, 2022

One would think that by sixth year the allure of these bloody Hogsmeade trips would have calmed somewhat. Alas, as they are the sole social event on the Hogwarts student's itinerary, for many, it is the highlight of their year. For Rose, Scorpius and I, however, they were obligations. Teen Witch Weekly needed their photos, we needed our publicity, etcetera, ad nauseum. So we went, pretended we were normal school-wizards having a lark about town, then got back to the Castle for revision and a few games of Drunken Snap before bed. For the others, though, Hogsmeade Weekends were a time for great social to-dos. Relationships started and ended around these trips. One's social standing could fall or rise greatly (assuming, of course, that one cared about such things). And if one were to accompany, say, the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain, one's status could be raised significantly.

Gryffindors are, by their very nature, rank amateurs at social climbing. Not as bad as Hufflepuffs, mind, but 'Puffs are far too communally minded to bother with such things. Gryffs, though, want to make a splash wherever they go. And Gryffindor witches make that splash in marrying well. So, to see a dashing seventh-year Quidditch captain wander completely unencumbered by female companionship this close to a Hogsmeade weekend turned several dozen Gryffindor (along with two Slytherin and perhaps one Ravenclaw) witches into contestants in the "Date James Potter" sweepstakes. Needless to say, for Rose, Scorpius and I, our October amusement quotient was reached early.

It started innocently enough. There were flowers sent to him via Owl post. First one bunch, which James seemed to enjoy, then five the next day (which he didn't enjoy at all), then thirty the day after that, which had Uncle Neville set up Mail Call in his quarters, rather than allowing James's suitors to disrupt the midday meal for his entire house. The following week started with sixth and seventh year (and, rather unfortunately, a couple of fourth and fifth year) students beginning to alter their uniforms. That only lasted a day or two before their own senses of decorum won out (Gryffindors, decorum – who knew?), and one could walk the halls without having to force oneself to stare at other students' foreheads. There were a couple more lavish displays (no doubt encouraged by Uncle George's thriving owl-post order business), but these were soundly ridiculed by most. James, bless what passes for a heart with him, sat through most of these displays quiet and red-faced, and even had the stones to thank the poor dears who put their dignity on the line for a chance at going to Hogsmeade with him. At one point I remarked to Scorpius that the next thing we were going to see was a love potion. Apparently, that's what James thought, too, because it was on the 17th that I received a note from him via lunchtime Owl.

"Albus, I know we've had our differences, but I'm really in a bit of a pickle here. If you could meet me tomorrow evening at 8 at the bottom of the Gryffindor staircase, I'd appreciate it. -James."

"Well, we're coming too, aren't we, love?" asked Scorpius, already knowing the answer.

"Of course. The poor dear's really stepped into it with this whole Hogsmeade thing. He'll need all our help to find his way out of it, won't he?" Rose answered for me. I just smiled. James had never come to me like this before. He'd always been the one to know things, to do things right. I was probably a little jealous, to be honest. I had style, grace, and I knew how to get around society. But James had a _savoir faire_ that I never had.

My first instinct, of course, was to take him down a peg. If he wanted help, by Merlin, he was going to have to beg for it. My more charitable side reminded me that we were brothers, after all, and I was rather duty-bound to help him – at least if he were in real trouble. Which he was. So I told Rose and Scorpius that we were there just to collect facts, that we would decide exactly what (if anything) we could or would do to help afterwards. I asked Scorpius to hold Flitwick's classroom for us, to make sure no canoodling students found their way in there. Then Rose and I walked bravely where neither of us had ever walked before – Gryffindor Tower.

James was there promptly, which was good, because although there had been détente between Gryffindor and Everyone Else for a good couple of years, we weren't quite welcome enough in the Lions' den to spend any time there alone. James whipped out Dad's invisibility cloak from his schoolbag, bringing howls of laughter from Rose and I.

"Oh for fucks' sake, James," I snarked, "are we going off to see if Scorpius is the heir to the Heir of Slytherin while we're at it?" James sheepishly put the cloak back into his bag.

"You don't have to be such a prat about it, Al. I just – "

"Right. Never mind what you thought, James. You're on our turf, now. You need a way out from under these adoring fans of yours? You've come to the right people, let's go."

After a moment or two of mild protest, James followed Rose and me to the Charms classroom, where Scorpius was waiting. Rose closed the door behind us, set three different wards and privacy charms, and the game was afoot.

"All right, James," I began. "Anyone with eyes knows all about your problems with those seeking your affections. But I don't think you'd have asked us for help just for that, would you? No, there's something bigger going on here, else you wouldn't have come to Snark Lord Potter and his minions, would you?"

"Al, come on. That was years ago. Anyway, you're right. I'm in a spot of bother here, and reckoned as you three know social structure better than anyone really ought to, you'd be able to help. You see, I'm already sort of seeing someone, and I have to let these girls down without damaging my reputation."

Rose squealed, rather predictably. Scorpius and I rolled our eyes in abject disgust of her girlish display.

"Ooh, who is it?" she asked. "Let's see – who hasn't sent you any pressies? No, not her, taken, no, she has, no… James, are you seeing a fourth-year or younger?"

"Good lord no, Rosie- er, Rose. No. It's just- "

"Oh, an Old Girl, then. Let's see, you were awfully tight with Noonington, weren't you? Oh, no, I think she prefers the fairer sex, actually. Perhaps –"

James made a couple of wand gestures in the direction of the door, silencing Rose's train of thought.

"Solid wards," James remarked. Rose smiled and nodded her head. "It's Brown, actually. Jack Brown, our Seeker."

Well now. This was certainly a shock. But the three of us were old pros, even back then, so we just let this bombshell roll over us.

"Mum and Dad don't have a clue, do they?" I asked. "Suppose I don't even have to ask about Gran and Gramps, right?"

"No, none of them," James answered. "Not even Freddy and Roxie. I thought about talking to Aunt Audrey over the summer hols, but, well, you know…"

"Uncle Percy." Rose and I chorused. James chuckled.

"Right in one. I probably could have talked to Vicky, but it's always been more socially acceptable to be Lesbian, hasn't it? So I guess if I had to come out to family members, it ought to be the fashion mavens, what?"

It was a significant act of fraternal charity not to call James on his indelicate use of stereotypes. But my brother's uncharacteristic vulnerability put me in a charitable mood.

"Right, then. James, I think we've got an idea of what's going on. I need you and Brown to meet us here at 8pm tomorrow. Between now and then, think of how you'd like this to go – what you'd like to see happen. Make sure that Jack is on board, else it'll all go tits up, which we now know you wouldn't appreciate." James shot me a rather rude, if not entirely un-deserved hand gesture, which I ignored. "And James?" I continued. "Whatever you do, don't go to Lils with this. It'll be all over school by the time you get to bed and all over Britain by morning. Once we decide what we're going to do, we'll talk with Lily, Hugo and Uncle Percy's girls first."

James was silent and pensive, but he seemed to understand. I walked over to the desk he was sitting on, gave him a big hug and a kiss on his forehead, and told him it was all going to be just fine – he was in the best of hands. He wiped his eyes dry (allergies, we reckoned), and tried to tell me he was sorry for having been such a bastard growing up. I told him to save it, and to let us have our moment, which he did, and then he walked out of the classroom, assumedly towards Gryffindor Tower.

Not three seconds after the door closed behind him did Rose and Scorpius fall into hysterics.

"Oh, Albus," Rose gasped, putting the back of her hand on her forehead "tell me it's all going to be okay!"

"Oh, it will, my dear James," Scorpius said in a dramatically deep voice. "It will."

"Fuck off, both of you." I grumbled, tossing them the same rude hand gesture James had shown me earlier. "He's my brother, all right? I have to do this." Scorpius snickered, which put Rose into hysterics.

"Albus, that's – that's positively Gryffindor of you. Is that your father's 'Saving People Thing' finally showing up in you?" Scorpius remarked, in between laughs. Rose sobered up for a moment.

"Actually, Scorpius, isn't that more Hufflepuff loyalty?" Rose affected a grave demeanour. "Remember Albus Potter. Remember, if the time should come when you find out you have a gay brother, remember there was a boy who was – "

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Rose. The Diggory speech?" I whinged.

"Yes, really, Rose? I don't think Albus has the cheekbones at all to pull off Diggory. No, I think it's more Gryffindor saving-people behaviour. And Albus? We really are going to have to get you laid again, old boy. I think 'fuck' has become your new favourite word."

I allowed as how he was right, and we set down to business. Obviously, no matter how we did things, we were going to have to work through Madam Norma. We thought about getting James a beard, and listed a couple of potential candidates for that job, settling on Verity's niece, Martha. On the other hand, if James and Brown wanted to go public, we settled on a couple of outfits that would work for them, and an itinerary that would say "cute couple" without making the less enlightened feel uncomfortable. We thought about how to tell the family – seeing as there were so bloody many of us. Obviously a big announcement at Weasley Sunday Dinner would be tacky, so we thought it would be best to tell Mum and Dad, have them tell Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione, and so on. Once Grandmum got wind of it, of course, it would make the rounds more quickly than if we gave the _Prophet_ an exclusive. Lily certainly didn't get her propensity for gossip from a stick nor a stone.

The following day, James showed up precisely at 8 with Jack Brown; a sensible enough looking fellow (for a Gryff, I suppose), dressed appropriately preppy as one's Modern Day Pouf ought to. Much like James, Jack spoke without noticeable affectation (that said, who were Scorpius and I to judge?), and carried himself about as mainstream-Hogwarts as one could. He was, after all, his house team's Seeker. James and Jack sat on desks, while Rose, Scorpius and I stood, facing them. Introductions were made, pleasantries were exchanged.

"Gentlemen, have you talked about what you want to get out of this? What would be the ideal outcome – best case scenario – from any possible plan?" I asked. They looked at each other before speaking (which elicited a squeak from Rose as she tried to stifle a coo). James answered for them.

"Well, first of all, we've decided it'd be just fine to go public. Now, just how public that is depends upon your counsel. You probably don't know this, but I'm being scouted rather heavily by a number of teams, including Puddlemere United. If we could tell the world and still sign with Puddlemere, that would be optimal. Jack's family already knows, but then again, they're muggles, so it's nowhere near as big a deal. Bigger deal for them, of course, is that I'm a wizard. They're cute, though. They have so many questions, it's rather like Gramps, except in reverse, you see."

"So all those times you were in Muggle London over the summer, you were – "

"Right, Al. Seeing Jack. Mum and Dad know that much, they just don't know what kind of relationship we have."

We sat there in silence for a moment, all five of us deep in thought. Scorpius broke the silence for us.

"Obviously you want to let the world know about this; else we wouldn't be here strategizing. What's holding you back?"

"Puddlemere," James answered. "There's never been an openly gay male Quidditch player in the professional ranks in Britain. Ever. And Puddlemere are so terribly old-fashioned – I'm really not sure they'll feel they want to be the first ones."

"So why not play for another team?" Scorpius asked. Rose and I nodded in agreement. James and Jack just chuckled.

"Because if you have the chance to play for Puddlemere, you take it." Jack said. They've been the class of British Quidditch since before the Statutes of Secrecy. Merlin's beard, Jamie. You weren't kidding when you said they didn't know a Quaffle from a Hippogriff's bollocks!"

"Jamie?" I asked, and the three of us started to snicker. James was not amused.

"Right. If you're just going to be asses about the whole thing, then – " I stopped him mid-rant.

"Sit down, James. We were kidding. Believe me, I get it much worse from them than you ever will – it's what we do. Now, you're taking on the entire Quidditch establishment, which is a bit above our paygrade." James got up again in frustration, grabbing Jack's wrist as he did so.

"Come on, Jack. I knew this would be –" I stopped him again, motioning for him to re-take his seat.

"But, I have friends in positions to do something for you. Scorpius, tell me if this makes sense to you: We'll contact Madam Norma - the chief editor of Teen Witch Monthly - this evening, telling her we have the scoop of the century for her, if she'll run it to our specifications. Then tomorrow we'll gather Lils, Hugo and the girls and James will tell them. Tomorrow night, we'll write Mum and Dad, asking them to come up to the castle. We'll let James come out to them in person, and tell them that they'll have to let the rest of the family know, if they don't want to find out from the paps. Hogsmeade Weekend rolls around, and TWM has an exclusive with the Great Gay Hero of Quidditch – James Sirius Potter. All right then, Scorpius?"

"Sounds good to me. Rose?" Scorpius asked.

"Perfect. I think we have a plan then, boys," she said, and we linked arms, making our way for the door.

"Wait – what's that now? Don't I get a say in this?" asked James, feeling terribly overlooked. I smirked in Rose's direction before answering.

"Yes, of course. James? Did you find anything wrong with that plan?"

"No. Well, I mean –"

"Very well, then. We'll send the letter off to TWM. If you could talk to our cousins, and arrange to meet here tomorrow night, that would be helpful. 'Till then, ta!"


	2. Chapter 2

When all was said and done, apart from Lily's attempts at producing squeals above recognisable frequencies, the big "telling the family James is bent as a butcher's hook" to-do went about as smoothly as possible. We ended up using Uncle Neville's quarters for our meeting, seeing as he and Auntie Hannah are practically family anyway, and Mum and Dad could just use their Floo connection. James's announcement didn't seem to be a big shock for anyone, and when it was over, Hugo had a new cause, Lily had a new wedding to plan for, Molly and Lucy had new questions for Aunt Audrey and Uncle Percy, and Grandma Weasley had a new jumper to knit (she Owled Jack the next day asking for his measurements and offering congratulations). Mum and Dad were proud of James for the way he was handling things, and Mum offered to pen an editorial in the Daily Prophet on James's behalf, which was almost as sweet a gesture as it was a ham-handed one. Rose and I politely let her know that we were working on his publicity. This actually turned into the best possible segue for Rose and I to ask the younger ones to keep their gobs shut until we told them otherwise, which they agreed to.

"Why are you looking at me?" whinged Lily, as I directed this missive nearly exclusively at her.

"Because, Lilikins," Rose answered, "Molly and Lucy aren't the ones being studied by Muggle communications experts on the rapid distribution of information. Telephone, television, Tell-a-Lily – has a nice ring to it, what?"

"I think we get the idea, Rose," Mum interjected. "Lily, this is quite important for your brother's career. Can you promise us to keep this between the people in this room until Albus and Rose tell you otherwise?"

"Of course I can, Mother,"

"There are ways of ensuring that's the case, love. Just let me know if you think I'll need to use them." Mum fingered her wand conspicuously, giving Lily an equally conspicuous stare. Lily gulped and shook her head, causing Mum to grin fearsomely. And if we all hadn't learnt the lesson in Third Year, we learnt it again that day: don't fuck with Ginny Potter where her children are concerned; even if you happen to be one of those children.

"There you are with that word again, Albus. Really, something ought to be done about this," Scorpius managed to mock as Rose and I relayed the goings-on to him. "Then again, besides – well, over the summer – when was the last time you had your clothes off near another person?"

I stammered a bit – we'd agreed not to discuss anything about that day other than Scorpius's triumph over his father.

"Merlin, that was hot, though," Rose interrupted before I could answer. "I don't care how much firewhiskey it took to get us there, what I saw is going to be burned into my brain forever." Rose affected a dramatic shudder whilst I rolled my eyes.

"Rose, I'm your cousin for fuck's sake. I really don't want to know what twisted fantasies are going on in that mind of yours, love."

Rose smiled, and a chill went through the room. "I don't need fantasies of that night, Albus. I remember everything..." she said, placing a kiss on my cheek and grabbing a handful of my arse. "Now, this one, for instance. He was masterful..." Rose trailed off as she slinked over towards Scorpius, and began to snog his lips off, tracing a lazy finger down the front of his robes.

"All right, break it up. Just because I'm not getting any doesn't mean you two have to make up for it on my behalf. Look, we still have to get the rest of this done. After you two have cleaned up or whatever, go ahead and write a letter to Madam Norma, letting her know we have a time-sensitive lead for her. Then we'll see if we can get Flitwick to let us meet her here at school – Rose, that's yours. I'll figure out how we're going to pose this when we get that far. Are we clear?"

There was no answer, of course, just a nearly topless Rose with her back to me, and two hands fumbling at the clasp of her brassiere. I sighed heavily, and tiptoed out of the room, but not before sending a quick Alohamora towards my cousin's back.

"Cheers, mate," was Scorpius's response, and I quickly went about my business.

The Great Hall was bustling as I entered; Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Slytherin students were gathered indiscriminately around various ends of tables as they practised Charms and Transfiguration or worked on History of Magic or Muggle Studies homework. With Rose and Scorpius both otherwise engaged, I decided to help a group of fifth-year Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw girls with some Transfiguration. Vanishing Spells had become a handy part of my skill-set the prior year, so I was able to help out with some authority. It was actually quite pleasant, and the girls really seemed to appreciate my efforts to help them revise. Certainly there was some flirtation, and I'd be lying to say I was entirely innocent in this regard, but there was no pressure whatsoever. That is, until only two were left, both Hufflepuff. I was talking about some visualisation theory or other when I felt a hand creep up my thigh. Then I felt a different hand creep up the other thigh. Without jumping completely out of my seat, I managed to gently grab both wrists, and return the arms to their rightful owners.

"Something I can help you ladies with? I'm starting to think you're not really here for the Transfiguration."

"Well," one of them began, "we were wondering,"

"if you'd care to join us," the other continued,

"on this upcoming Hogsmeade weekend," they chorused at the end, each with one arm on one of my shoulders, and the other supporting them with the table.

"Please don't tell me you're twins," I asked, rather hoping they weren't. They laughed melodically.

"No, not twins," the girl to my right answered.

"Besties since we were three," the girl to my left finished. I shook my head, chuckling in disbelief. They were attractive, all right. Nearly identical builds, both pleasantly curvy, with auburn hair and nice racks. Nonetheless, this couldn't continue. I had a reputation to uphold.

"Ladies," I said, trying to remain delicate with their feelings, "as lovely as a weekend sounds with the two of you, I generally spend Hogsmeade weekends with Rose and Scorpius. It's us time – you understand, right?"

"That lucky bint is getting the both of you, isn't she?" the girl on my left piped up.

"My god, woman," I replied, raising my voice, "that's my cousin you're talking about. Ew. No."

There was a moment of silence. Then a nod from one of them, and perhaps some sort of hand-gesture from the other. Or it could have been telepathy – I'm still not sure. Either way, it was a bit unnerving. When the flashing of signals was complete, there were nods, and then one of them spoke.

"Oh, we get it." It was the girl on my left.

"Like brother," continued the girl on my right.

"Like brother." they chorused.

"What do you mean? I'm nothing like my – oh. Wait – what have you heard about my brother?"

Their faces went ashen, which suggested to me that they weren't supposed to have said anything. I couldn't imagine that Lily had too many Hufflepuff friends, but still, if she needed to get good gossip out, perhaps she thought these two would be willing recipients. Perhaps I'd be able to cut the flow of gossip off at the source, nip this in the bud, prevent too much –

"Oh, it's all over school."

"Were we not supposed to know?"

My forehead hit the Great Hall table with a resounding thunk. It was time for some damage control, and quickly.

"Well," I said, after giving myself a moment not to make a fool out of myself by opening my mouth, "do tell. What have you heard?"

The girl to my left began to open and close her mouth like a guppy. Thankfully, the girl to my right answered.

"Apparently he's been seeing the Gryffindor seeker for a bit now, which is why he's not taken any of the girls up on their offers. So when you, well..."

"I'm not," I cut her off mercifully. "Don't you remember – oh, never mind. Anyway, that's James. I'm different. But you say it's all over the school?"

"Well yes. It's absolutely adorable, isn't it?" girl on the right continued. "They're just so cute – and the way they dress... Anyway, one of my friends in Gryffindor told me about it, says it was all the talk up in her common room."

That was really all I needed to hear. It was time to find Lily and see what we could do to manage things. And also time to see what Mum would say about her spilling her guts just hours after being explicitly told not to.

So, once again (now for the second time in my life) I was on my way to Gryffindor Tower. This time, I walked with a bit more purpose, trying to come up with the feminine form of the word "fratricide," so I'd know what I'd be charged with at my trial. When I got to the Fat Lady, I grabbed a second-year Gryff who was standing there by the scruff of his collar, and asked him to find Lily Potter for me. Not quite sure what I'd do when she got there, but boy, was she going to be in for it.

She emerged a few moments later, along with the terrified second-year nearly hiding in her skirts. He ducked past us and fairly ran down the stairs. Lily looked composed, and sweetly asked me what she could do for her darling brother who'd come all this way.

"What could possibly have made you decide it was a good idea to tell the whole bloody school about James, you dizzy bint?"

"Albus, I didn't, I swear! Merlin, man. I might be a gossip and all, but that's James we're talking about."

"Well, if it wasn't you, how did all of Gryffindor and half of Hufflepuff find out?"

"I don't know, honest. I came down to the Common Room for supper, next thing I know I've got six different girls asking me if I knew my brother flew for the other team. I tried to change the subject, but Al, really. I didn't tell anyone."

Poor kid was distraught, headed for hysterical, so I let it go. Hogwarts' best Quidditch player in a generation being outed like that wasn't anything one could run damage control on, and all of a sudden, what looked like our biggest publicity coup ever was falling down around our ears. And Rose and Scorpius were probably splitting a fag and thinking about another go by now. There was nothing for it then but to wait and see what the fallout would be.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:**

_Thanks for your patience. This story is complete – Hooray! Please enjoy..._

Madam Norma was not amused. Turns out that Rose dashed off that owl about 20 minutes after I left them alone (for which I gave Scorpius no small amount of ribbing), telling her that we had the scoop of the year, and she needed to see us post-haste. Of course, by the time we actually got a reply, the story had been old hat. Furthermore, she told us under no uncertain terms that she was patently not interested in the story. As she explained it to us in her reply:

"Teen Witch Monthly is printed to appeal to the fantasies of young witches; why on Earth would we print a story about one of the most eligible wizards in school going off the market?"

As one can imagine, this presented us with quite the dilemma. James showed us an owl from his agent asking him to deny the "scandalous rumours," and he began to get concerned about his position at Puddlemere. We needed Madam Norma in the worst way.

By the week-end, we were finally able to badger her into at least hearing us out. We arranged a luncheon meeting at the Three Broomsticks, to plead our case. Rose, Scorpius and I brought along several fifth-year Hufflepuffs who were more than eager to help make our case that James and his boyfriend coming out wouldn't just be something "okay" by them, but something they'd like to read. The pseudo-twins were absolutely brilliant, as a matter of fact. They went on at excruciating length about the pair's keen sense of fashion, their matching haircuts, and the "simply adorable" way they looked at each other at meals. Yet, somehow even this was not enough.

"Darlings," Madam Norma began once our guests had left, "what you really need to understand is this: whilst we may sell our magazine to young witches, our ultimate customer isn't them, but rather our advertisers. Were we to run a piece as you suggest, simply presenting James and his beau as any other elite Hogwarts couple, we'd lose at least a half-dozen advertisers before we went to press. Of course, we have an article queued up for this story already, but it's certainly not the kind of puff-piece you'd been hoping for. But, come now. With all the bad blood between you and the Gryffindors, this certainly isn't the end of the world, is it?"

Well, no. No it wasn't. But it wasn't anything we were going to accept, either. Now, we weren't about to play that hand now, were we?

"Of course it is! You can't possibly think we'd just allow you to denigrate a member of our family like that, can you? Madam Norma, this is not over! Come on, boys, we're done here."

And just like that, Rose lost her honorary Slytherin membership. I tried mouthing apologies to Madam Norma as we left, but to no avail.

"For fuck's sake, Rose, what was all that about?" I asked as we walked down the High Street in Hogsmeade.

"What do you mean? You'd really let her publish some attack piece on your brother like that? Merlin, Albus, I knew you two don't get on, but isn't that a bit extreme?"

"Of course I wasn't going to let that go, but good lord, woman, yelling at her like that, that's like playing poker with your hand turned over."

Rose opened her mouth to answer, but a light went on in her head, and she covered her mouth with her hand.

"Oh. Oh dear. Albus, I'm -"

"It's alright, really. We'll just need to get hold of Mum a bit earlier's all."

"Didn't you say that was...?" Scorpius asked.

"Wasn't the right call then, love," I answered, "but we need to get a story out yesterday. TWM will be going to press soon - sooner if they think we're up to something - and we have to beat them to the punch."

There's not a direct floo connection between Hogsmeade and London, but one could make calls. We (okay, Rose) charmed the proprietor of the Hogs Head to let us use hers, but mum wasn't home. Dad, however, was in his office, meaning our conversation was a bit less private than we would have liked, and therefore a lot more circumspect.

"Dad, it's about James. Word's gone public."

Dad took a deep breath, and let go a healthy exhale, much like his muggle headshrinker told him to do after the War.

"How'd it happen, son? Is it too late to-"

"Don't know right now, and it's rather besides the point. TWM are about to put out a piece about him, and it won't be pleasant. Need to see if Mum can head this off with her Prophet connections"

"Wait, who are about to publish a story about James?"

"TW - Teen Witch Monthly. Biggest teen witch's magazine in Britain. We have a contact there, and -"

"Well, did you try asking him?"

It was at this point that I buried my face in my hand.

"Do you know where Mum is? We really need to talk to someone who knows Quidditch."

There was a bit of mumbling on Dad's side of the floo, and then a completely different voice said

"I might know something about the Quidditch," a small, timid voice called out from the background.

"I assure you, Auror Baldrick, that I'm well-versed in the sport, whether or not I made a career of it," Dad replied, a bit more sharply than I'd ever heard him talk to one of his men before.

"Right, no, sorry, sir. That's not what I meant at all. It's just that, begging your pardon, Mr Potter, sir, er-"

"Well, go on. Spit it out, man," Dad barked. No idea what poor Baldrick was in for, but he'd obviously done something to royally piss off Dad.

"Me brother, you see, he writes for _Quidditch_ _Quickly_, and he could rather use a story at present. Something about the son of Harpies' ol' number 10 might really help 'im out."

There was an awkward pause for a moment before Baldrick spoke up again.

"Er, because he's a chaser like his mum, you see. If he were a seeker, well, we all know your record with Gryffindor, Mr Potter, sir."

Dad visibly softened a bit as he turned his attentions back to us.

"That would really help, Dad," I said, as Dad seemed to be at a bit of a loss. Now, I might not know a Quaffle from a Beater, but I'd certainly heard of _Quidditch_ _Quickly_, as it came to our house weekly. They always had a bit of a thing for Mum, which, given their predominantly male readership, occasionally got disturbing. Their weekly publication would also help us scoop Teen Witch Monthly. But, as I was a bit out of my depth on the Sport pages, I made arrangements to speak with Mr. Baldrick.

Mum thought the idea was brilliant, of course. She'd regretted offering the _Prophet's_ services nearly as soon as she had; she was afraid someone might call out the paper for conflict of interest. Messers Baldrick had no such qualms, however, and the following day they met us in Hogsmeade to go over particulars, and interview James and his beau. The story landed James on the cover, along with the caption "Is this Puddlemere's next great seeker?" All in all it was a great success (Quidditch Quickly graciously edited out James's crass declaration that "it's always been easy for me to score centre hoop on Jack"), and Puddlemere wound up not only honouring their verbal agreement, but featuring James predominantly in their marketing during his debut season.

Madam Norma, as one can imagine, was less than enthused. Three days after the Quidditch Quickly article was published, I received a Howler from her, to which, due to an excess of both curiosity and invincibility, I deigned to listen:

"Albus Potter!" it started. "How _dare_ you go behind my back to get a story published? After all we've done for you! Your association with our publication is hereby revoked. And be warned, young man. We made you three, and we can break you, too."

The Howler self-destructed, and I was left sitting there with the pieces. Several well-wishers came by, letting me know that I'd done the right thing; they'd stick by us, etc. Rose and Scorpius arrived a moment or two later, and Rose wound up penning our response. (My idea for a response wound up being a profanity-laden tirade that certainly would have been printed in the next issue of TWM as "proof the Mercurial Trio have gone 'round the bend." Rose is good like that.)

James found out about his success via a parcel that arrived during lunch about a week later. In it were a note from his agent, asking him to appear at the pitch in Dorset for a photo-shoot, and a Puddlemere jersey in retro-brown (which the team were bringing back that season), with Potter-9 emblazoned on the back. In James's typically subtle fashion, he immediately threw the kit on, stood on top of the Gryffindor table, and shouted "Woo! Up the Lions! You other houses are shite! Puddlemere, woo!" This, of course, drew wild cheers from the Gryffindor table, and doubly-wild indifference from the rest of the school. It's a good thing he wasn't terribly injured after he mysteriously slipped off the back of the table, just as Rose, Scorpius and I were exiting the Great Hall.

_~fin~_


End file.
